Search This Blog

Learning to be a reflexologist

This weekend I was part of a wonderful class in Hokitika, taught by Laksmi (who is one talented goddess) and it was such a gift to be there. Gorgeous food, wonderful fellow students and an opportunity for me to learn through my hands, not through a book. Next step is lots of practise, and a series of classes a month apart. I am not at the point of articulating my thoughts about the actual reflexology learning into words, but I can comment confidently that I now want to learn to make inside out sushi rolls. We had some with the nori on the inside and sesame seeds on the outside and they were divine.

Laksmi had giant red mustard in her garden and it is so beautiful that I have to grow some, whether I eat it or not. I've been telling Favourite Handyman about her raised beds built of river stones set in cement. They are in long curves and I would love to build some like that myself.

We also had guests for the weekend, favourite friends of mine called Jen and Hamish. That was wonderful as well, all the more so because they were unfazed by the mess around them. We'd had a babysitter the night before (in order to go to work at night as well as during the day...), so I'd managed some basic hygiene cleaning so no one ran away in terror, but indeed our guests did sleep surrounded by toys, books and unfolded (clean) washing. Now we want to save up and go to Wellington and see them as soon as possible. I might have to move to Wellington for a month really, for all the things I'd like to do and see (and people to meet), but I suspect a few days would be pretty darn good.

I fitted in a few minutes weeding, just before sundown last night. Garlic doesn't compete well with weeds according to all the books, so clearing the soil around it was a priority. We have more and more roses. More than a dozen Dublin Bay blooms, a gorgeous scented red rose from the rose nursery (taken from cuttings from our clever rose show neighbours), a yellow one just out for the first time since I bought it two years ago and the first bloom of the pink rose which I've also grown from cuttings. Indeed the link for the pink rose which I've just given demonstrates that it is a weed in the South Island, but I love it anyway and as far as I know it is not on the noxious weeds list. There is an old car/scrap metal yard in our town with a fence covered in this rose and it is totally gorgeous. I haven't yet planted the rest of my tomato/pumpkin/zucchini/kale seedlings but I'll fit it in somehow.

Tonight I finished the black ric-rac on the older outlaw niece's twirly skirt. Progress progress. Although it would be logical to finish my own dress next, I've been putting it off because it is more difficult and I am mostly sewing when tired.

I finished Fiona Kidman's Songs from the Violet Cafe during the week. I enjoyed it. I feel like I have some kind of symmetry now. I read A Breed of Women and Mandarin Summer as a teenager (not that I can remember details) and then recently both volumes of Kidman's memoirs and now a more recent novel. Everyone seemed to have made money by the end of Songs from the Violet Cafe, which seemed a bit unconvincing to me, but perhaps that is a feature of generation X gloom, whereas these women are baby boomers.

Comments

loving your blog!that pink rose is what we call dog rose, and it grows with wild abandon round us here in Otago. it has wonderful rose hips that i gather by the bucketful each year.one of my favourite rose experiences is infused apple cider vinegar. bung some petals in a jar, fill with ACV, top with something other than metal lid, then voila, you have LOVE POTION. add it to food, drinks, a bath of fractious kids, and feel the mood change.

Popular posts from this blog

I never seem to read anything in sequence for book group anymore. Wrong book for the wrong meeting, or I have to go home because I was falling asleep because I spent three hundred hours of my life filling in forms for the government to satisfy itself that I am doing my job (generally ensuring that I don't have time to do my job) or some other thing.

So here is my record. Not even all about books. After the wonderful America is not the Heart by Elaine Castillo, I read Nora Ephron's Heartburn, (originally published c.1983 and recently reissued by Virago Classics, for the first time.

After reading almost everything I could find about Elaine Castillo after finishing her novel, this is what stuck in my mind:What is striking about “America Is Not the Heart” is how it’s unapologetically Filipino, peppered with expressions in Ilocano, Pangasinan, and Tagalog and nuances like wearing tsinelas, calling everyone Ate, faith healing -- with no italics, no footnotes, no glossary of terms…

It started off quite innocently. I was at my parents house, and they have properly (wastefully) good water pressure and gas hot water and so I had a very long shower and eventually followed that with borrowing Mum's hair dryer.

Ever since Hitchcock's shower scene, we have known that bathrooms are dangerous. Behind the clean white lines lurk danger, and yesterday was no exception. There should have been high pitched violins playing when I decided to step on Mum and Dad's scales.

The scales told a message I was not interested in hearing, using numbers I did not think should have relevance to me. I thought they might be broken, but my longsuffering and ever loving husband just talked supportively about exercise when I told him, which is not the same at all as declaring the scales corrupt and incorrect.

So it's no bloody wonder that I'm looking at dressing in stretchy jeggings and flowy merino tunics. …

I finished the blue crossover top (Simplicity 1945) in the weekend, and wore it for the first time today. Brighid took some photos for me at the end of today. She even interrupted the story she was writing for her homework to take them. "A unicorn was going over a rainbow one day. It found a dead unicorn. It fell down through the rainbow."
It has definitely turned out better than the first version. I learnt a lot about making full bust adjustments and taking better care of details as I sewed, so this version doesn't, for example, have two different sized sleeves. That is an improvement. It is very comfortable to wear. The fabric is very clingy - I think a print would be more flattering, but print fabrics in jersey knits are not easy to find in New Zealand. The first version was too tight across my tummy. I could carry a pregnancy in this one. I don't plan on doing anything of the kind. I had hoped that this would be a pattern that I would make sev…